


Think I'm Working Through the Stress Now (I Feel Better With My Heart Out)

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Abigail Bellweather, Bodyguard/Soldier, F/F, Lesbian Bridey, S1E6: Up is Down, and there's no way Abigail isn't at least a little into her, because duh, there's no way Bridey isn't a huge sapphic, we all watched the same episode right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23997742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: “So, you’re here to protect me?” is how Abigail starts the conversation, as nonchalant as she can possibly be. “And…your job is to be here. To give me whatever I need.”She only sort of phrases it like a question.
Relationships: Abigail Bellweather/Bridey (Motherland: Fort Salem)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Think I'm Working Through the Stress Now (I Feel Better With My Heart Out)

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song "Do You Wanna See Me Crying?" by King Princess.

“So, you’re here to protect me?” is how Abigail starts the conversation, as nonchalant as she can possibly be. She keeps her gaze fixed on Bridey, stands righteous and tall outside the door of her dormitory that she already knows is conveniently vacant inside — Tally probably with Glory, and Raelle off doing god knows what. 

Probably grieving. They’re all grieving. Every second of every day, it feels like.

Bridey nods. Abigail pretends that she has to think about what to say next. 

“And…” she continues, “your job is to be here. To give me whatever I need.” 

She only sort of phrases it like a question. Bridey tips her head again, obedient and simple.

Abigail settles against the wall, hooks her right boot behind her left ankle as she stands leaning, considering. 

“So, you could definitely come inside with me, right? I mean, I know you only expected to stand guard out here, but I could really use some company.”

Abigail’s voice is like silk and Bridey definitely catches on. Abigail brings a hand up to the doorknob before Bridey even responds, already knowing her answer, and when she confirms it, says “whatever you need, I’m here to provide to you,” Abigail grins. 

She moves swiftly. She has Bridey pushed up against the back of the door as soon as they’re both inside, wasting no time. Her hand reaches past Bridey’s waist for the lock, hurriedly turning the physical one to its desired position and then placing a sigil on it as well, just for good measure. If Raelle walked in on her, she’d never live it down, especially not now. 

Abigail lunges to kiss Bridey and she complies, though just for a second. Abigail only gets the briefest taste of her lips, clean and smooth and vaguely minty, before she has to lean back, recalibrate. 

“I didn’t realize this was what you had in mind,” Bridey says before Abigail can get any words out. Her voice is low, emotion still barely present in her inflection, but there’s more than usual. Abigail hears it, sees the slightest change in Bridey’s calculated, poised expression, and she counts it as a win.

She moves her hold from the fabric of Bridey’s collar to the hem on the bottom of her jacket and plays with the smooth fabric as her eyes stay set on her guard’s. She gives Bridey enough space to move, to run, to head back outside to her rightful post or to her mother’s office, demanding a new soldier to monitor. She doesn’t. 

“I thought I made it pretty clear,” Abigail responds, giving Bridey those eyes that nearly every boy she’s ever met has fallen for. She knows her angles, how to play her games and come out victorious, but only when she needs to. She’s dead serious, considerate when she says next, “only if it’s okay with you.”

Bridey doesn’t falter under either of Abigail’s responses. 

“As long as you’re sure,” she replies, and that’s all the confirmation Abigail needs. She leans up, presses close into Bridey’s space and kisses her again, for real this time. 

Bridey moves at whatever pace Abigail wants her to. It doesn’t surprise Abigail, not really, that Bridey’s a soldier through and through, meticulous and methodical and profoundly organized even like this with Abigail’s lips tripping across her collarbone. Yet when they’ve migrated to the corner of the room and Abigail finds herself slanted between two walls, Bridey  _ does _ surprise her by mirroring her previous statement and saying, almost taunting, “as long as you can handle me.”

Abigail feels a fire low and deep in her belly. There’s a faint tingle, rising from her toes and up her arms, all the way to her neck, and she laughs, feeling joy and pleasure for what feels like the first time in her life. 

Abigail knows Beltane was only a few days ago and she’s spent most of her life not grief-stricken and bruised, but ever since she walked in on Charvel and looked into the gaping hole of her throat, battled Spree with her bare hands and choked breath, Abigail’s felt a bit like a puppet with all of her strings coming loose. She can’t remember what it was like to exist otherwise, to not wake up drenched in sweat and sorrow and pray that she’ll be steady enough to handle whatever comes next. She’s never realized, at least not like she has now, that there’s always going to be something coming next. It’s daunting. She’s starting to understand Raelle’s pessimism, though she’ll only admit that above her dead body.

She thinks a lot about dead bodies. Thinks about her cousin’s, about Scylla’s, about Raelle’s mother’s. She tries not to think about her own, of what she’d look like crumpled and grey and defeated.

She breathes in deep, shaking the thoughts.

“Try me, soldier,” she counters, leveling her gaze with Bridey’s. She kisses her again, an abundance of tongue and teeth and warmth that makes Abigail pant. Bridey pulls away and Abigail catches her breath only to lose it again. She quivers when Bridey squeezes her hips with warm and calloused hands and drops her lips to the valley of her breasts, sucking hard on the rise of her nipple. It’s just enough pressure to make Abigail forget about the way that the backs of her knees are tainted purple with popped blood vessels and scrapes that sting her in her sleep.

_ This is helping, _ Abigail thinks when Bridey strips before her, lets her pitch black uniform land in a pile on the floor. She’s hot, gorgeous even, all toned muscle and dark, supple skin that Abigail’s eager to touch. 

Bridey goes first though, taking her time kissing down Abigail’s body. She’s as good with her mouth as she is with everything else, and Abigail catches a flicker of a smile teasing on Bridey’s lips when Abigail moans and mumbles and holds her close. 

Abigail hasn’t felt powerful in days, doesn’t know if she ever will again in the way that she used to, but there’s something there, a palpable rush that surges through her when it’s her turn and she makes Bridey shake. Bridey urges her closer, guides them to Abigail’s bed with a questioning glance as to whether the move to her personal space is okay or not, and Abigail responds by leveling them both down and guiding Bridey’s mouth back to hers.

Abigail’s blankets wrinkle and bunch when she repositions herself, sinks her mouth to the trimmed curls of Bridey’s center and licks slow. Bridey lets out gentle sighs, sweet and soft and just a little needy when Abigail really gets going, and it’s enough for Abigail to think she’s cracked her. 

It’s just sex, that’s all this is going to be, but Abigail likes Bridey, respects her. She thinks she’s good to have around, even if just for this, just for a little while. And though it’s definitely against the rules for her to fuck her bodyguard — Abigail imagines her mother’s blood boiling, heart practically stopping at the mere concept of her protective attempts leading to her daughter getting laid — Abigail can’t bring herself to care. 

Bellweather women get what they need, take what they need, through goodness and grief. Both she and Bridey have had too much of the latter, anyway. It’s only fair they get some of the former, and getting it together isn’t half bad. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please let me know! You can find me on tumblr under the same username, sweeterthankarma.


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